


Kadan v2

by SicklyWrites



Series: Asha Trevelyan [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Monogamy, NSFW, Plot Spoilers, Rewrite, Sexual Content, Smut and Fluff, Some PWP, Spoilers, or at least be discreet about it, please don't read this if you're a minor, some pre-relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SicklyWrites/pseuds/SicklyWrites
Summary: A series of fluff and smut revolving around my Asha Trevelyan and the Iron Bull.-This is a rewrite of a fic I started in 2014, and after six years, a cringey reread and a marathon of all three games, I felt like I could do better and add some more. Thank you for reading :)
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, The Iron Bull/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull/Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Series: Asha Trevelyan [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/197822
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. How to Woo

It had been a week since the Inquisition had taken Skyhold, Haven left under an avalanche. Asha stood on the battlements, leaning over the stone and watching the people below her, wondering how it had all come to this.

 _“That little scar on your chin, boss…”_ Bull had said, weeks ago in Haven, _“...and that matching one on your chin.”_

It was funny how he’d looked at her, shamelessly eyeing her up and down. She felt tiny under his gaze. Taken in by it.

 _“Hardly scars compared to yours, Bull,”_ she had responded. _“You’ll have to tell me how you got them.”_

He’d laughed. Both of them were aware of how impossible that was, there were too many to count and too many battles to remember. Standing there in the snow, Asha had in the back of her mind that if he noted how her cheeks flushed red, she could blame it on the cold.

The ox-man was at the front of her mind again, inevitably. It was almost annoying how it happened so often. She couldn’t help it, he was intriguing to say the least. An enormous battering ram of a thing, all muscle and power, but he spoke like a gentleman. After spending nearly her whole life confined to the circle, she’d never met a qunari before, only heard the stories of what happened in Kirkwall when the Champion single-handedly killed the Arishok in a duel. It was a crazy story as it stood, but looking at Bull now and imagining it, it was unbelievable how one human could go up against… _that._

But he wasn’t the barbarian he appeared to be, he was honest and clever and dedicated. After all he’d told her about Seheron and how he lost an eye to save Krem, a man he’d never met, Asha respected him. Beyond that, he made her laugh. He was playful. Maker, she needed that in her life while the whole world seemed to be pressing down on her shoulders. Every second person wanted her executed, the rest praised her for being Andraste’s chosen, and neither of those things appealed to her.

Cassandra had given her this scolding look when she caught Asha and Bull standing outside the walls of Haven shortly after he’d been hired, just talking and laughing. That _look,_ as if saying _‘you have better things to do than chat.’_

She’d done the same thing when Dorian joined them, and Asha spent hours talking to him about magic and the differences between Tevinter and the Free Marches. They’d become fast friends, regardless of the rumours that Dorian was only with them because of some Venatori ulterior motive. Same thing with Varric, talking about Hawke and the events at Kirkwall. After all, she’d read every book of his that made its way through the Circle, including the romance serial. But Bull was different. Strikingly different. Honest and open, the qualities you’d least expect in a spy, Qunari, or most people regardless. She was truly fascinated by him, as much as she was curious. As much as he was a friend.

He’d be in the tavern, she figured, with Krem and the rest of the Chargers. She found herself wandering down the battlements towards the sound of drinking and singing, returning Harding’s nod and smile as she entered.

The sun was just setting over the Frostbacks and Bull and his Chargers were already hard into the drinking.

“Inquisitor!” Bull announced, tankard in the air, his booming voice commanding attention. If anyone hadn’t noticed her arrival, they knew now.

“How are you doing, Bull?” Asha asked, taking the seat beside him. He didn’t answer, just slid a tankard over to her.

“Try this.”

Asha peeked over its rim. It was a frothy, deep orange colour. It didn’t look like anything _anyone_ should ingest.

“What is it?” she asked, “It’s not something toxic to humans or something, is it?”

Bull laughed, “No, it hasn’t killed Krem yet.”

Asha gave him a raised eyebrow and grabbed the drink, taking a bold swig. She regretted it the moment it touched her tongue. She slammed the tankard back down and coughed into her forearm, trying and failing to look tough in front of the big guy. Bull only laughed as she pushed it back towards him.

“Maker,” Asha muttered through her burning throat.

“Good stuff, right?” Bull said, finishing his own in one swig and taking hers for the next guzzle. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he chugged the whole thing. Andraste’s tits, the neck muscles on him. She’d never even considered the muscles a person could have in their neck.

“ _Gah_ \- that’s the stuff.”

Krem walked nervously towards them, leaning on the bar in a poor effort to look relaxed.

“My Krem brûlée,” Bull said, smacking Krem in the arm, “want a swig?”

“No, Chief, I was wondering if I could get a private word with you.”

While Bull was looking at Krem, Asha took the opportunity to discreetly scrape her tongue with her teeth.

“Bullshit,” Bull said, cocking his head and gesturing for Krem to sit, “anything I can hear the Inquisitor can hear, too.”

Asha found this oddly comforting.

Krem sat down slowly and rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but in their eyes, his other hand clasping his drink so hard the tankard might break.

“Well, I, uh… it’s about...”

Krem subtly gestured towards Maryden, the bard singing _I Am the One_ , swaying side to side in a world of her own. She was as beautiful and soft as her voice.

Bull and Asha craned their necks to look over at her, Krem rolling his eyes and almost walking away at how horribly obvious they were.

“You have a thing for her?” Asha said, face lit up. “I don’t blame you, she’s very cute. You’ve got good taste.”

A terrible grin stretched across Bull’s face.

“I knew it.”

“How do you flirt with a woman, then?” Krem said quickly, getting it out in the air before he regretted saying anything at all. His eyes darted between his chief and the Inquisitor, lips pressed together. “How do I _tell_ her.”

“Don’t just _tell_ her,” Bull said, rolling his eyes. Or eye. He adjusted himself in his seat and faced Krem completely, giving him instructions like they were life or death. “You allude to it until she can’t take any more.”

Asha mentally noted that tactic.

“Isn’t that too far?” Krem said, a nervous smile creeping up on his lips. Asha withheld laughter. The poor kid was smitten.

“I’m not asking you to run up to her, smack her ass and declare your undying love, I’m saying maybe you should try _flirting._ ”

Krem shook his head, looking like he might want to run and hide forever.

“I regret asking.”

“Approach her in a friendly way, ask how she is,” Asha said. Bull turned to Asha with a smirk.

“For someone like you, Inquisitor, I expected something more exciting.”

“There’s a fine line between flirting and sexual assault, Bull.”

Bull shrugged.

“That’s why I said _don’t_ slap her ass right away. He’ll be doing that later if all goes well.”

Krem nearly choked on his drink, shaking his head and wiping his chin.

“Look, I think he needs some baby steps,” Asha suggested, “maybe pick her some flowers. Skyhold has a lovely garden.”

Krem nodded, finally agreeing with something.

“Right. Flowers. I can do flowers, can’t I?”

Bull seemed disappointed, taking a swig.

“Anything’s possible.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll… go to the garden.”

Krem stood up, his whole body stiff, and left the tavern. Bull shook his head.

“Flowers? That’s what you’d want?”

“I never said that’s what I would want, Maryden just seems like the kind of girl who would appreciate them. She’s sweet,” Asha said. “But teasing the poor woman to death is your idea?”

“Nah, I know you’d prefer drinks. Even if I wasn’t here you’d be here for them.”

Bull was smiling. Asha knew exactly what he was doing.

“Are you suggesting I’m here for _you?_ ”

“I’m not saying a thing.”

Asha remembered Varric telling them that _‘the two of you smile at each other like idiots, you know that?’_ She figured it was the mutual love of stupid jokes they had both found in each other.

“You know I’m not here just for you,” Asha said, immediately realising her mistake and fully expecting how he would exploit it.

“Just? So you are here for me _a little bit?_ ”

She laughed, and nervously. Maker’s breath, why did she have to have a thing for a man who could see through any lie she threw at him?

“The drink is fine, too,” she said, not sure what else to say. She’d already dug herself into this hole, she might as well accept it.

She lifted a hand to gesture for a drink, Bull doing the same right after, almost as if to say that yes, he was staying as well. There was something smug about it.

“Hey,” he said, “I’d like to thank you for saving the Chargers.”

Asha was a little surprised. He outstretched his hand for her to shake, which was more intimidating than she thought possible. She shook his enormous hand, trying her best to keep eye contact.

“You’re the one that called the retreat but… of course. They’re good fighters. Good people.”

“Unless you only did it to get on my good side,” he said, resting his hand back on his knee. He saw his eyebrow quirk upwards and that sly smile he was so good at.

“I should be trying to get on your good side,” Asha laughed, “considering how small my hand just felt in yours I think it would be in my best interest.”

His smile was going to be the death of her, she was quickly realising.

“I meant my really, _really_ good side,” he said, leaning towards her so slightly that she wasn’t even sure he was. She swallowed her anxiety, swearing that maybe her cheeks had just burst into flames.

“Oh, but Bull, I’m glad I wasn’t standing because my knees just went weak.”

Bull chuckled, facing to the front again, hands clasped around his tankard. Gods, those fingers alone…

“Ha, it’ll work on you one day.”

“So you’re trying?” Asha teased. She wished she could cool her hands with frost magic and place them on her face without him noticing. She watched him lift his drink to his lips, side-eyeing her with that sly smirk across his big, dumb face. She hated how she noticed his tongue peeking from his smile, just gently touching the edge of the tankard. Oh, what that tongue was capable of.

He wasn’t at all coy. Quite the opposite. It was if he was saying _‘damn right I am, and you know it.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this in the previous version it was Scout Harding that Krem had a crush on, but since Trespasser made it that Krem and Maryden get together, I thought I'd change it up. Sorry Harding.


	2. Quizzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asha and Sera have a rooftop conversation.

“So, Inquisitor of Greatliness,” Sera started, sitting on the edge of the roof, swinging her legs back and forth like a restless child. “You’re a mage, yeah?”

“You’ve fought beside me, Sera, and you just noticed?”

“Well I saw you practising on the training dummies Cassie’s always at and it got me curious.”

Cassie. Ha.

“It’s a way of hiding that I’m a mage. If you can fight a little bit without relying on magic, you’re less likely to be executed,” Asha said. It was a truth she’d come to realise fairly early in life after being taken to the Circle in Ostwick. “Plus, I like the idea of kicking a man in the nuts without having to cast a spell to do it. It’s more embarrassing for them.”

Sera laughed that beautiful, shameless, unladylike laugh.

“That’s for true. Did you ever do it to the templars?”

Asha shrugged and nodded. “It’s happened.”

Sera cackled.

This roof they shared, eating cookies, was now one of the most comfortable places to be for Asha. Maybe for Sera, too. For a long time, Asha didn’t trust her, and the feeling was mutual. They found each other such polar opposites that it was hard to find common ground, until Sera started making fun of the stupid nobles and the stupid mages and Asha was prone to agreeing. Sera respected that she agreed whilst she was a mage and kind of noble herself. Kind of. It was the start of something new.

She just didn’t feel like the _Inquisitor_ sitting on a rooftop eating sweets. That’s not where people with titles were normally found.

“I heard other rumours, too,” Sera said, her voice turning frighteningly cocky. “I heard the Quizzy’s got something for the horny-man.”

“The--oh, right.”

“It must be down to his ankles!” Sera said, swinging her arm below her groin like a trunk. Asha couldn’t help but laugh at the imagery, but it’s not like she hadn’t thought the same thing. Anyone would, right?

“No, I do not have a thing for Bull. Who told you that?”

“Pfft! Such a liar! Pants on fire, I say. I know you gotta be into big guys. Like really, really big guys.”

Sera mouthed the word ‘big’ while holding out her hands like a man describing a big fish, then pointing at her crotch.

“I mean, it has to be.”

“So you’ve thought about it!” Sera said, eyes all big. She giggled, more cackled. “Have you seen it? Wow, the women must be… _woof._ ”

“I have not seen it,” Asha said, laughing despite herself. “I really have no intention.”

“Look, when I met you I thought your type would be all about the Commander Cully-Wully, but I know you now and you’d sit on the Bull for certain. You’re into it.”

“I might be, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“She admits it!” Sera said. Her grin was enormous.

“Why are you so interested?”

“Not sure, really. Maybe I’m curious. You’re all high and mighty - well, in most peoples’ eyes - and he’s just a mercenary. A big scary-guy mercenary who’s qunari so no one trusts him. Didn’t really imagine you wanting to get plowed by that.”

“It’s just flirting, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything will come of it,” Asha said, finding it kind of cute how invested Sera was, trying to reassure her down before posters started popping up all over Skyhold or something, alerting the public that Asha had a thing for qunari with stick-figure scribbles of her and Bull doing it. “Anyway, Bull does so much flirting, he probably thinks nothing of it.”

“Nah, bullshite, you’re the Inquizzy,” Sera said, having none of it. “You don’t just flirt with the Quiz and not mean it.”

Asha couldn’t keep herself from smiling. She thought back to her teenage years in the circle when she and two other girls her age used to blush and giggle over one of the much older templars they all had a thing for. She wasn’t that kid anymore. Not even close. The power and authority she now wielded was simply not possible as a young mage trapped in a tower. Sometimes, when she thought about it, it still seemed so insane.

She shook her head.

“Sure, Sera.”

* * *

A few hours after Sera and Asha had spent their breakfast on the roof, Asha stood before the training dummies, stretching her wrapped fingers. Cassandra wasn’t around, which was a relief. Asha respected her a great deal and considered her a friend, but sometimes it was nice to not have her around like a stern teacher, criticizing her every move. Sometimes she got the feeling Cassandra thought she would be a better Inquisitor herself, but that feeling always went away when she found herself being too brash or making impulsive decisions. Then she would tell Asha she was glad she was the one who made the choices, even if she didn’t always agree with them.

Asha was only a few minutes into training when Bull came out of the tavern, casually wandering past and rolling his shoulder back around under his hand. Must have been sore. The big bastard was regularly swinging a giant piece of metal around, after all.

All concentration was lost when her eyes drifted down to his crotch, thinking about what Sera had said. _Big._ She swung almost blindly against the dummy, trying to cover the fact that she was watching him, and ended up stepping completely wrong on a wet patch of mud beneath her foot. Her boot slid cleanly forward, and as she lost all balance all she could do was grab for the dummy to keep herself up. She dropped on her ass, the dummy’s head ripping off and going down with her.

“The beheading manoeuvre,” Bull chuckled, “it’s a good one but I’ve never seen it done like that. Maybe stick to magic, Boss.”

He strolled over to her in no great hurry and reached his arm out to help her up. A year ago she would have rejected any help, but with the dummy’s head under one arm, she grabbed for his hand and felt herself be effortlessly lifted from the mud and back onto her feet. She could feel the mud seeping into her trousers and onto her skin, cold and wet.

As he lifted her they bumped together, shoulder-to-chest. Big, broad, strong chest. Asha wanted to stay there, admittedly, but stepped away quickly. She was embarrassed to even think it.

“Shut your mouth, Ox-man,” she jested.

“Oh, that hits hard,” Bull said, watching her try to scrape the mud off her ass. “Want some help?”

She looked up at him, half expecting him to be joking, but he was serious.

“And what do you advise?”

He stepped behind a dummy - one with a head still attached - placing his hands on its shoulders.

“First step is to not fall over when you see me,” he said, and _Maker_ that smile.

“That’s not why I fell over!” she said a little too defensively.

_“Boss.”_

He rested his chin on the top of the dummy’s, standing much shorter than him.

“It’s _not._ ”

“Right, Quizzy.”

If he could wink with one eye, she was sure he would have. Asha recognized what he’d said and squinted his way, suddenly filled with fear that Sera had shared what they’d spoken about.

“You spoke to Sera!?”

Bull’s smile stretched into a sinister grin.

“She’s a curious one.”

“Maker,” Asha sighed. Now, truly, her heart was in her throat. What had she done?

Bull stood beside the dummy now, elbow on its head, one ankle hooked around the other in a casual stance. Asha found herself involuntarily looking at the muscles that flexed in his arm when he did so. She was sure he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just… built that way. She forced her eyes away.

“What did she say to you?”

“Doesn’t matter what she said, the only thing that matters is I’m getting to you, aren’t I, _Boss?_ ”

She must have looked so small and frightened in front of him, freckled cheeks going cherry red. She couldn’t say a thing, and if she had, she was sure it would all be stuttered. She simply opened her mouth to talk, then stopped.

“Want to catch a drink tonight?” Bull asked.

 _Fuck it,_ she thought, _I could die tomorrow. Tonight if I’m lucky._

“Sure,” she exhaled. “Drinks tonight.”

Bull gave a lopsided smile like he was genuinely glad she agreed. A kind of _‘huh, I didn’t expect her to give in’_ smile.

“Alright.”


	3. Drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding to this as I can, but work and life are always in the way. Thank you for reading :)

Asha sat at her desk, Thedas on her shoulders. It felt like a thousand letters and lied before her, and all the lives behind them, and none of it was making any sense. She was a circle mage, not a leader. Not a herald, or a chosen one, or an Inquisitor; and yet, here she was. She eyeballed the fireplace across the room, considered shooting a fireball into it and tossing every piece of parchment in it all at once. She instead heard Cassandra scolding her inside her head. This was important. She knew that. She needed to focus. Whether she liked it or not, she had control now.

Her brow furrowed, moving aside the sketches of little nugs she had done on the backside of some less important notices. It was all so formal it made her head hurt. She was sure nobody was taking her seriously anyway. She imagined some noble opening her letter and being simply flabbergasted that a mage of all people was trying to lead anything. An abomination. It felt useless vying for the attention of all these people who hadn’t a shred of respect for her as a person, let alone a leader. But these were the most important people in Thedas, Josephine had told her, and they needed word from the Inquisitor herself.

She didn’t want this. Not tonight, especially. She promised Bull drinks and he was probably down in the tavern getting drunk and flirting with the barmaids. She sighed and covered her face in both hands, a dull ache throbbing in the front of her head.

A knock at the door startled her.

“Come in,” she called out, resting her head on her first, tapping her dry quill on the desk. She expected one of the advisers with some more grave news - there was always grave news - but instead, Bull. He walked sideways through the door so as to not catch his horns, two bottles in one hand and two empty tankards in the other. Did he take them from the tavern?

“You were taking too long,” he said, closing the door with his foot. He put the bottles down on the only empty space on her desk and ripped a cork from one’s neck with a pop.

“You’re a raging alcoholic.” Asha smiled. She was glad he was here. She held the tankard as he poured into it.

“And here you are, encouraging me.”

“Like you need it.”

He smirked and shook his head. There was only quiet as he poured his own, and a clank as they tapped their mugs together in a silent ‘cheers.’ They took swigs, Asha coughing into her fist.

“I really need to invest in my own drinks,” she said, nose screwed up.

“Nah, get some hair on your chest,” Bull said, “the human shit is too weak.”

She nodded, thinking of the smuggled alcohol that had gotten into the Circle from time to time.

“So, the Inquisitor who likes to get on the drink,” Bull said.

“At one point I was just a  _ person _ who liked to drink.”

“Yeah, but it’s all class when you do it with a title.”

Asha laughed lightly into the rim of the tankard. “There’s nothing that fancy about me.”

Bull leant down and put nearly half his weight on the desk. It creaked unhappily below him, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, it snapped into splinters right down the middle. Asha saw in its full glory Bull’s shocked expression as he went down. She laughed before she even checked if he was alright, she couldn’t help it.

“Are you alright?” she managed to say between her laughter.

“For fucks sake,” he grunted, looking genuinely angry. “I spilled the booze.”

Asha wasn’t too concerned about the splash of alcohol on all the papers that had come gliding down on top of him. She moved her chair and leant down to try and organise it back up again. It was only a shitty little desk, something lost in the depths of Skyhold and worn from the exposure to the elements. She wasn’t exactly going to mourn its loss. It was almost a mercy killing having the old thing destroyed.

“This is going to look suspicious,” Bull said, finally finding the amusement in it. He tried to help arrange the papers and splinters of old wood.

“What, like we…?” Asha trailed off.

“What’s this?” He held up one of her nug sketches. Really, they weren’t half bad, he just didn’t expect them. “You’re a patron of the arts, are you, Boss?”

“Give that back,” Asha demanded, casting aside her piles of papers and trying to swipe it from him. If he only didn’t move his hand upwards and out of her reach so quickly. He held them above her reach, grinning.

“I like ‘em.”

“No you don’t, just--”

She put one hand on his chest and stood on her toes trying to reach it. He only held them a little higher and looked at them in the light.

“This one has little whiskers and everything,” he said, unphased.

Asha punched him in the guts, hardly hurting him but lowering his arm just enough to grab the drawings.

“Good hit,” he said, “looks like you aren’t as  _ fancy _ and uptight as I thought.”

Asha scrunched the papers up and burned them up within her hands, embers falling between her fingers after a wisp of flames.

“Did you honestly think I was at all?” Asha puffed after the panic. “You’ve been watching me fight demons for weeks.”

“No,” Bull said, momentarily fascinated by her magic but then briefly looking over the papers to see if there were any other drawings. Asha grabbed her drink, taking a long, hard swig. There was something sad behind her eyes that Bull caught on to immediately. He’d seen it before, but not as blatant as this.

“Something wrong?”

Asha was almost startled by the question. She didn’t think she looked upset.

“I’m fine, just… a lot of pressure, I suppose.”

Bull nodded. She stood with her tankard between both hands, held to her chest. Her hair was a little more bedraggled than he was used to seeing, her posture a little more slouched, shoulders held forward, tense and protective.

“You know, the whole ‘not being what people expect you to be’ makes me like you more, right?” Bull said, stepping closer to her. She felt her head lift just to look at him. His lidded eye looked down on her, keeping her in place. “Can’t stand the ones with their heads up their asses, above everyone else. That’s what I expected you to be, and you’re not. I don’t think you could get your head up your ass if you tried.”

Asha felt ridiculous with the lopsided smile she could feel on her face. He had a way of forcing it out of her. Or maybe he wasn’t trying. She watched his gaze move from her freckled cheeks, the scar on her nose then lower to her chin. To her lips, lingering, then back to her eyes. She felt more exposed now than she ever had to anyone before.

“You know my neck’s going to snap if I keep looking up at you like this,” she said, “giant bast--”

His hands landed firmly on either side of her waist, lifting her from the ground with incredible ease. She grabbed onto him for support, startled by the weightlessness she felt in his grasp. He could have thrown her across the room, it felt like. At first it was her hands on his shoulders until he adjusted and she felt more secure with her arms around his neck.

“Bull! Put me down!” she demanded, wrapping her legs around his sides. He was so broad that she couldn’t connect her ankles on the other side of him.

“Nope.” His grip was sturdy. “Not while you’re still smiling like that.”

She realised what she was doing and it only made it harder to wipe from her face. She was giddy and nervous and hyper-aware of every way that their bodies touched. She looked at him and nearly reeled back from the shock of being so close to his face. When she had first met him, the first Qunari she had ever seen in person, she watched him just to take in the shape of his face, his horns and his body. She thought he hadn’t noticed her looking, but in hindsight, the Ben-Hassrath in him seemed to give him eyes in the back of his head.

“I’m  _ helping, _ ” he grinned.

“Sure, that’s all you’re doing,” she said, now very much certain that she didn’t want to be put down.

She saw his teeth gently graze his bottom lip and heard the small, low sound that escaped him.

“I wonder what you taste like.”

Her whole body went white-hot, her throat tightening and her heart running wild. She looked from his lips to his eyes, frozen and uncertain that he’d even said something so suggestive. She’d been imagining what he’d say to her in a situation like this for so long, it was almost surreal to think she was really up against him like this.

“Booze, probably,” she stuttered in a breathy laugh.  _ Smooth _ . To her relief, his smile widened at the joke. This was a side to him she had never seen, and was so desperately curious about. His voice deep and sultry, his movements soft and purposeful. He knew what he wanted and he wanted  _ her. _

He leant forward, impossibly close to kissing her.

“Want to ride the bull?” he whispered. She laughed quietly, nervously, terrified of him as much as seduced by him. Completely, absolutely enthralled.

“How long have you been waiting to say that?” she asked, biting her own lip now. In this state she needed to soothe herself somehow or she might implode. She was too exposed and helpless, and she hated it as much as she loved it. As much as she wanted more.

“If you don’t kick me out, you know I’ll have my way with you.”

He tilted his head, a moment from a kiss but waiting. Teasing. She could feel his hot breath tickling her skin, the smell of him, his overwhelming presence. The only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle was his hands firmly on her thighs, holding her to him.

“You’re so gentle for a man twice my size,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling.

“Believe me, I’ll get rougher as the night goes on. If you want me to.”

It was a promise and she felt it in her every sense. Their noses touched ever so slightly, a nudge that he was willing.

“Well then, Iron Bull, you may have to lock the door.”

He seemed somewhat surprised by that, head tilting and smiling, satisfied with his work it seemed.

There was a knock at the door, frightening Asha nearly out of her skin. She didn’t mean to cling to Bull the way she did, but regardless, she stuck to him.

“Inquisitor, I have news, if I may enter.”

“One moment!”

Bull carefully dropped her to her feet - her knees nearly giving out when she hit the ground - and Asha gestured for him to move out of sight. She went to the door and opened it slowly. Thank the Maker she was dressed.

“Sorry, I was just on the balcony.”

A horrible lie but Cassandra didn’t seem to notice. She was flustered as if she had run the whole way here.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she said, painfully unaware of what she  _ had _ interrupted, “but it’s quite urgent.”

“What is it?”

“One of the rifts, in Emprise Du Lion.”


	4. The Rift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm very sorry for the slow updates! Too much personal drama going on, and I pretty much live at work. Thank you all for reading regardless <3

Asha walked across the frozen-over lake, Bull, Dorian and Cole behind her. Snowflakes settled on her hair and her armour, the cold burning her face. She warmed her hands with magic - grateful for its small, less deadly uses - and raised them to her freckled cheeks.

“Warm,” Cole said quietly. His face was mostly covered by the wide brim of his hat and his limp blonde hair falling over his forehead.

“It most definitely isn’t warm, Cole,” Dorian said. He’d been on-and-off complaining about the freezing temperatures. If Dorian was at all uncomfortable, you knew about it. Asha didn’t mind however, everyone was feeling it, too.

She looked over her shoulder to the three of them following her, Dorian dusting snow from his armour, Cole unfazed, and Bull visibly disgruntled by the temperature.

“Soft, spotted skin, dark golden eyes. A want, a hunger more than anything known. Slow, but vicious.”

Everyone’s attention was on Cole as he spoke, his sad, sometimes ominous voice hard to ignore.

“ _ Whose _ golden eyes? What is he talking about?” Dorian asked, eyebrow raised at Asha as if she might have the answer. Ever since she had recruited him, most people had looked to her to explain his oddities, when really she had no idea most of the time either. He had taken to her, and she adored him in the strangest way. She felt compelled to protect him in the same way one might want to protect a stray puppy.

“She’s scared but she’s happy,” he continued on, “she wants this. She’s never had  _ this _ . Not the same.”

“Do you think the spirit boy had some fun without us knowing?” Dorian smirked. Cole’s eyes focused back on Dorian as if he’d come back to reality from his trance.

“What?” he said softly.

“The kid has probably just picked up on something from Skyhold or the camp or something,” Bull said calmly. He looked over to Asha, the discomfort only too obvious on her face when she stared back at him. They both clearly knew what Cole was talking about. Asha was only grateful Dorian didn’t know.

It wasn’t long before they came across the rift Cassandra had warned them about. The hole in the sky, pulsing with wispy green energy. Bull had said before that to him it just looked like a big, evil leak, and he was almost right. Below the rift, fresh bodies of Inquisition scouts gone cold in the snow, blood frozen to the skin.

“Grisly,” Dorian said, readying his staff. “Such a shame.”

Asha readied her own staff, her hand glowing with the same green energy. It snapped and popped within her palm any time they neared a rift, stinging in a way that had become familiar now. It hurt, aching right up to her elbow, but it was nothing like it used to be when she first fell out of the Fade.

Bull swung his axe down from his back, Cole following suit with a dagger in each pale hand.

The rift came alive with their presence growing closer, snapping and hissing along with the anchor. Two terror demons passed through to their realm, lanky and terrifying, and running towards them with mouths open wide in a terrible screech.  _ Too many eyes. _ Snow picked up under their long, spindly feet before Bull reached them, smacking both away like a whirlwind. Cole vanished, appearing behind one of them with his daggers driven into its back. The second had Bull’s axe slashing upwards on its strangely shaped jaw. It only shrieked louder. On the backlines, Asha and Dorian, almost in sync, threw magic their way - electricity from Asha and fire from Dorian.

Dorian dropped a barrier on Bull and Cole, Asha surrounding the demons in a barrier of storm magic that shocked them at every move.

The terrors were gone quickly, but the excitement gained them more attention from the other side. Wisps appeared around them from the Fade - Asha sometimes imagined that’s what Cole looked like on the inside, only friendlier - and the rift crackled. Angrier this time. Asha shielded her eyes at the explosion of light, opening them to see the pride demon stepping out before them. It laughed, many eyes blinking, its hands sparkling with its own storm magic.

Bull stepped back, rolled his neck and grunted with his axe hanging ready in both hands.

“Assholes.”

The pride demon ran forward, straight to Asha. The anchor seemed to draw them to her over her companions sometimes, she had noticed. The great, terrible thing swung its crackling arm down her way.

“Asha!” Dorian had yelled, only a moment before she Fade Stepped out of reach, her form disappearing in a streak of blue frost magic. She reappeared a few feet to his left, gave him a quick smile, and continued her assault. The demon’s hand crashed down into the snow, a white explosion happening before it, speckled with electricity. It roared, frustrated, and swung around behind it to Bull and Cole, who barely dodged it. The demon roared again, louder, its arms building up power like a thunderstorm. It turned to Asha again, and she could have sworn it smiled.

She went to dodge with the same Fade Step, but it was too late. Whips of lightning came shattering down on top of her. She heard Cole yell  _ “Inquisitor!” _ and Bull yell something else entirely.  _ Maybe Qunlat, _ she thought. It was the last thing that went through her mind before she fell on her back in the snow, the world turning black.

Cole’s voice was far away.

_ “Help her!” _

* * *

“She’s cold,” Cole said. He was sitting with his legs crossed next to Asha beside the campfire. He was the first thing she saw when she came to. Cole’s face lit up. “Awake.”

Asha groaned in pain and looked around trying to work out where she was. Dorian knelt down at her side, a relieved smile on his face. Her vision was blurry, but she focused on him.

“We’ve done all the healing we can do,” he said, “it’s up to you now.”

“Did you kill it?” Asha asked. Pain thrummed through her entire body, numb in places. The anchor still hurt.

“We had to flee,” Dorian frowned, “there is no way to close the rift without you, so we ran.”

“Where’s Bull?” she muttered, “Is he okay?”

Dorian rolled his eyes, sort of amused.

“You almost die and you’re worried about someone else. Yes, he’s fine, he carried you here. He was injured by the demon trying to get to you and has a nasty wound, but he’ll recover. He’s just sleeping it off.”

“You’re sure he’s alright?”

“He’s  _ fine _ ,” Dorian repeated, resting a reassuring hand on her bicep. “He has nothing on  _ you. _ ”

“It hurt but he didn’t feel it for long. He had to get you safe,” Cole said quietly. Asha nodded, her eyes heavy. She was close to drifting off again.

“Tell him I said thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bull’s voice said in return. He must have been lying in the neighbouring tent. Asha smiled, almost laughed before her aching ribs refused to give her that range of motion.

“What about the rift?” she said, looking up at Dorian.

“It’s one rift or your life. I’d rather we warn the surrounding area to not approach it and simply come back later. You can’t do anything in this state, and I don’t want you dying on me.”

She grabbed his hand with hers, giving it a weak little squeeze. He understood, even without words. A worried smile graced his lips before he stood up and went to fetch her something to drink. He wondered when it was that this woman had become so dear to him.

* * *

It was night and it was freezing. Beyond freezing. She tucked her body under all the blankets that had been placed on top of her, looking like a furry cocoon. Outside her tent she heard new logs being placed on the fire. The cold wind didn’t allow much heat to come through to her, if any.

Footsteps crunched through the snow and the tent flap opened. In the dying orange glow of the fire, Asha could see the unmistakable silhouette of the Iron Bull, enormous and foreboding if it weren’t so welcome.

“I’m awake,” she said, her voice tiny and weak. Dorian and Cole must have been asleep - did Cole even sleep? - and she didn’t want to wake them. They had gone through enough today.

“Just checking on you,” Bull said. His voice was low and somehow comforting. He was quiet too, offering their companions the same courtesy.

“I can’t sleep and I’m freezing.”

Bull chuckled, the tent flap closing. For a moment she thought he’d left until she heard his breath beside her. He lied down next to her and pulled his own blankets over himself that he had taken from his own tent, warm with his body heat. Even though she felt like she was on her deathbed, Asha still got nervous with him so close.

“I can’t sleep either,” he said. “What Cole said was pretty funny though.”

She could hear his smile in his voice. Looking at him she could only see the shape of his body, his chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.

“Embarrassing, too,” Asha added, although it was kind of funny in hindsight.

“They’ll work it out eventually,” Bull said, unfazed.

“Work what out?” Asha baited.

“That we banged. Or… almost did. I’m sure Dorian will be the first to put the puzzle pieces together. Not counting Cole, I’m pretty sure he was practically in the room with us.”

Asha quietly laughed into the blankets held up to her chin. She rested her forehead on his shoulder. It was all she could manage.

“Banged,” she said, “such a romantic word.”

“Not exactly romantic, is it?” he responded, tired but amused.

“I don’t know, I think you checking up on me in the middle of the night after you carried me to safety - while injured - is pretty romantic.”

He went silent. It’s not like he was actively avoiding being romantic, but it still kind of shocked him when he realised it was.

“This is purely platonic,” he said sarcastically, chuckling so quietly she barely heard. She rested her hand on his forearm.

“Regardless, thank you.”

He sighed, clearly in pain, too. 

“I am to please.”

All she wanted was to be closer than these frigid touches. She wanted her head on his chest and their fingers intertwined. His arm around her, pulling her to his body. She ached to be near to him, his mere presence teasing her. It was like dying of thirst but being presented with a few drops of water.

Eventually, she slept.

* * *

By morning he was gone and Asha found herself wondering if he was telling the truth. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic. This was going to be an inevitable quick fuck, and that was all. Like he was curious and once they were done his curiosity would be sated.

The blankets he had left still smelled like him. She resisted the urge to pull them close. This was a mistake. She was at the forefront of the world being in crisis and she was worrying about a man? A qunari, of all things? It was ridiculous and irresponsible. His people didn’t think about sex and love as being even close to the same thing. She was dealing with something she had no idea about.

She turned away from his scent in a sudden defiance. People were dying every day, and what if it was him next? She didn’t have the luxury of being heartbroken, not for his death, not for his non-committal attitude of their relationship, not anything. For the sake of Thedas, she needed to focus on what was important.

But Maker, did she want to kiss him.


End file.
